


Ask Box Advent Calendar

by jacksgreysays (jacksgreyson)



Series: Tumblr Ask Box Events [2]
Category: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen, Naruto, Original Work, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Olympics, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksgreyson/pseuds/jacksgreysays
Summary: (originally posted on tumblr)





	1. (Shikako/Haku - Winter Olympics)

Coat and scarf and gloves, coffee thermos at the ready; it seems odd to be so dressed up indoors, to feel the chill of the ice but not see the open air of the track. This view isn’t so bad, though.

Not many people can say they’ve had a private show with four time gold medalist winner Haku Yuki.

At this time the rink is empty, everything silent but the scrape of blades against ice, lights dimmed low to the barest minimum. Haku’s practice clothes are dark and plain, but he still shines despite it all, enchanting.

Shikako knows how to skate but in comparison to her friends, Sasuke in speed skating and Naruto in ice hockey, she always figured it was simply a matter of needs must. Ice skating as a winter athlete was the same as knowing how to swim–functional, necessary. Nothing as beautiful as this.

During her musing, Haku’s routine has drifted closer to where she stands by the wall, coming to a sharp stop, snow spraying from the force of it.

He smiles at her, gives a little bow, and reaches for the thermos. Shikako, in turn, laughs, hands it over, and gives muffled applause, sound dulled by the fabric of her gloves.

It’s paltry compared to the kind of acclamation he’s received before, even in this very same rink–hundreds of his fans cheering his name and millions more watching him at home–and yet the smile he gives her is honest and appreciative.

“That was fantastic,” she says taking the thermos back, walking along side him as he skates toward the exit.

“It’ll look better with the music playing,” Haku says, extending an arm to gesture at the great expanse of ice that is his stage. “Zabuza-sama says my song choice is too sentimental, but he also says this is my best routine yet, so…” he drifts off, one hand at the wall, the other reaching out as he steps out of the rink.

Used to the way Naruto and Sasuke are when they come off the ice–as if having to remember how to walk instead of skate, the few seconds transition between ice and ground–she takes his hand, steadying him and supporting him through to the bleachers.

But even as he sits, he doesn’t let go, tugs lightly as if to say, sit next to me.

She does so, joined hands between them, looking at the rink where, in a few days time, Haku will win his fifth gold medal.

“Thank you, Shikako,” he says, and she knows he doesn’t mean just for this morning, this moment.

* * *

* * *

**_–It’s said that love can push you to the greatest heights–_ **

“Representing the Land of Water,” says Koyuki Kazahana, Land of Snow’s princess and this year’s guest commentator, “Haku Yuki, performing for his short program, ‘I Follow You’”

There’s a false hush over the crowd, house lights low and a single spotlight on the rink. Poised with statuesque stillness yet, with all the kinetic potential of a storm, the skater waits for the music to begin.

The audience knows this may very well be Haku Yuki’s most ambitious routine.

It’s success has yet to be seen.

**_–or the lowest lows–_ **

Skeleton is an aptly named sport, as dangerous as it is thrilling. Rigorous and demanding an athlete’s full attention.

Shikako may not be as focussed as she ought to be.

Kakashi-sensei, ever observant, raps his knuckles against her helmet: fondly reprimanding and casually reassuring both.

“There will be recordings,” he says, “and you can trust Naruto to be a loud enough spectator for the both of you.”

Shikako smiles, more for the intended comfort than the words themselves. Though the idea of Naruto raucously cheering at a figure skating competition as if it were one of his hockey games is an amusing thought.

It’s a short lived smile, though less out of melancholy this time around and more out of determination:

She’s an Olympian about to go hurtling over 130 kilometers per hour (if she’s both lucky and unlucky) down an icy track with nothing but a helmet and a sled half her height. She can’t afford any distractions.

And plus, it’s not her fault that their events are scheduled at the same time.

**_–Passion is a fickle creature–_ **

Timing is key to a routine.

The smallest of lags can throw off a jump. A missed landing can then escalate to a faltering mood. Low spirits can drag down an entire performance.

A poor performance can cost a skater their ranking. Their medal.

But Haku is, above anything else, an ice skater. In his blood and in his bones, inherited from a family he can barely remember, carved into him daily by Zabuza-sama.

Emotions are important–some other coaches may even argue that they’re vital–but they’re not everything. Haku has more discipline than to rely on the budding feelings of a new romance.

The first triple axel is easy as breathing, a move he mastered a decade ago. A decade ago, all he had was the ice and Zabuza-sama. The applause is loud, but expectant.

The combination jump is more difficult, but not actually challenging: a quad salchow into a triple toe-loop. The jolt of adrenaline as he sticks the exit, skates scraping against the ice. He hears the cheers, but sets them aside for now, preparing.

The entire rink seems to hush, too, in the steps leading up to his final jump.

It’s here and now that emotions come into play, for all that it makes Haku’s coach scowl.

If he can pull this off, he’ll be the first skater in history to successfully land a quadruple loop.

Before Shikako, he’d never have reached so high. He was already at the top, his competitors so far away. Before her, there was no point.

**_–but love can be the foundation for great things–_ **

“Shikako Nara, representative from Land of Fire, has maintained her standing, setting, yet again, a new track record!” the skeleton commentator announces, after a tense and eagerly waiting silence for the time to be posted.

Shikako, sans helmet but plus blanket cocoon, shouts in excitement. It quickly turns into a shriek of delight as Kakashi-sensei, perhaps forgetting his blasé reputation, picks her up and swings her around.

“Her total time is three minutes and fifty one point nine six seconds, placing her at a record shattering two second lead!”

Cameras flashing and the noise of the spectators, Kakashi-sensei puts her down quickly, only for her to be scooped up once more by Sasuke then passed onto her brother without her feet touching the ground.

“First time Olympian, Shikako Nara, has won gold!”

In the crowd, still in his performance costume, she spots Haku cheering and waving. Unpatriotically, he’s holding one end of a Land of Fire flag, and around his neck is a gold medal of his own.

 


	2. (Temari/Shikako - canon 'verse)

It is known that fools fail to recognize competence. In theirselves and in others.

A long lived saying in Sunagakure, most recently applied to those who might look down on them: the Wind Daimyo who could not truly understand the scorpion he was taunting. The other villages for dismissing their true power. Leaf especially, for thinking Suna a tamed creature at their beck and call.

How embarrassing that she would fall prey to that very mistake.

—

In enemy territory on the cusp of an invasion–at ground zero of the main force, in fact, holding the exploding tag but not the trigger–she is constantly on edge. Stressed out, a step away from panicking constantly, and all of this threaded through with strangely potent homesickness.

Temari hardly notices her, really. One out of what seems like a thousand Leaf nin too childish to know what being shinobi actually means.

She didn’t have time to commit to memory that first meeting, not when Gaara toed that line of violence and madness and Kankurou could easily misstep into the line of fire.

There will be other chances.

—

She had been raised knowing that, one day, she would have to take up her father’s mantle–inherit his mistakes without any of his glories–simply because there was no one else.

Not Kankurou, who would fracture under the pressure. Not Gaara who was a sword with no sheathe or hilt.

Just her, a master of wind, tied down and grounded because of blood.

But that was before.

—

Second contact, not so much a meeting as a mutual observance.

The Leaf are as weak as she had been told–it’s only because the Exams are in their own home that so many of them have reached this stage. Most of the fights are overdramatic grandstanding or silly kid’s spars. Even Temari’s opponent, who looked perhaps the most dedicated to her chosen profession, falls easily enough during the preliminaries.

Second contact, Temari knows in hindsight, shows just how foolish she was. She couldn’t exactly throw stones when it came to not wanting to fight her brother.

A specific brother, at least.

Though no doubt Temari’s reasoning is very different from the Leaf girl’s.

—

She is no stranger to change–the winds ever shifting, the vast sands constantly in flux–people of the desert are sturdy, yes, but survival comes from adaptability not stubbornness.

Even change, though, can be predictable. The mapping of stars and weather forecasts, winds following patterns that can be harnessed.

All her life, Temari was in free fall, never expecting the updraft that would let her catch the currents.

—

The invasion has started, Suna lost before it begun–manipulated by a serpent far more poisonous than they, their ultimate weapon proven nothing more than a scared boy with more power than sense.

Her father is dead. Has possibly been dead for a while.

She is the head of her clan now. The head of her family.

For that is what they are, despite their depleted numbers and strained bonds. She and her brothers, running from a fight their father started, and Leaf nin on their tails.

Power isn’t everything when all other factors–strategy, numbers, environment, exhaustion–are working against them.

They are losing, another man’s pawns in someone else’s war, and Temari knows very well what might happen next.

Their third encounter, Temari learns just how much of a fool she’s been.


	3. (Temari/Shikako - Witches!AU)

Temari lets Kamatari roam free, only keeping half an eye on him as he darts beneath unsuspecting pedestrians. He’s smart enough to know not to go too far from her, and quick enough to avoid actually getting trampled.

And besides, as a manifestation of her magic, it’s not like he can even be seen by normal people.

She turns her attention back to the stall in front of her, perusing the little trinkets for sale. She knows what to get for Kankurou–an authentic Fire Country style puppet and, more importantly, the book on how to make them–but Gaara has always been more difficult to read.

Maybe a tooled leather wallet? But that seems kind of impersonal, especially for her baby brother. Well, no longer a baby. If he were still a baby–or even still a teenager–she’d get him a stuffed toy, but Gaara has been quite firm about being an adult lately and she doesn’t want to undermine that.

With a polite shake of the head, she disengages from the stall owner and continues her search.

The concept of an open air market isn’t unfamiliar to her, Suna’s bazaars are extensive and world famous, but Leaf’s night market is a seasonal thing, coinciding with their winter holidays, and it’s apparent. There’s a sense of cheer in the air–the twinkling lights and decorations, the sounds of music and the scent of sugary treats–as if this were a month long festival and not just a place of commerce.

Unfamiliar, but far from bad. One of many new experiences she can appreciate during her year abroad.

A frisson of excitement runs through her, stopping her in her tracks. Baffled, she glances around–only stall signs and the shoes of strangers.

Where is Kamatari?

—

Every year for the Konoha Holiday Night Market, the Nara clan run an unusually successful deer petting zoo and sleigh ride.

Unnaturally successful, some might even say, except there aren’t any detractors to the Nara deer display. There have never been any accidents and there’s something irresistibly delightful about having a normally skittish animal eat from your hands.

“… and make sure you keep your fingers flat,” Shikako finishes instructing, demonstrating for the group of kids eagerly waiting for their turn. Gemmei, one of the herds oldest and thus calmest members, is perfect for the excitable audience, delicately taking the apple slice into her mouth and chewing demurely.

With gasps of awe, the children circle around, each armed with apple slices or carrot sticks of their own. Shikako extracts herself, confident that Gemmei has the situation handled, before walking over to Heijomaru and leaning against him with a tired sigh.

He deigns to acknowledge her with a fond lipping to her hair, before resuming a majestic surveillance of his herd. It’s not likely there will be any incidents, even with little Nagaoka new to the display this year, but this is the one time a year that the herd can receive attention from non-magical people.

Heijomaru is old enough to remember when the general populace were not so kind to his herd–deer and humans both.

Still, even with the relative ease that comes from running a petting zoo with sentient deer, it’s still tiring. Draining, more precisely.

Her family and relatives are the ones doing most of the manual labor, but she’s the one whose magic is sustaining the herd’s presence.

Slouched over and near to hanging off Heijomaru’s ornamented saddle, Shikako is the first one to spot the sleek furry body of a weasel winding its way around the fence posts of the herd’s display.

—

Temari follows the connection between her and Kamatari, curious more than concerned. The ebbs of emotion from Kamatari aren’t nearly as potent as that first one, but they’re still giddy. Burbling as if he were still a young kit and not a hardened combat familiar.

Their bond leads her to the far end of the market, filled more with the activity and entertainment stalls that she had originally declined.

Perhaps that had been a mistake.

Approaching a penned off area filled with the scent of animal and straw, she watches as Kamatari clambers over the back of a massive deer. He leaps, flamboyantly, from deer to fence and back,  as the large animal trots arounds patiently.

The most bewildering part is that, from the cheers and applause from the crowd of people around her, others can see him too.


	4. Shadows Show The Future, anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) a possible future of my [Stars Also Dream](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7794919/chapters/17782258) 'verse
> 
> 2) part of my [Counterclockwise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365782/chapters/25442715) 'verse
> 
> 3) an AU version of my [Walking Around (the Sakako Uchiha 'verse)](https://archiveofourown.org/series/549712)

_1) Shadows Also Dream: Or, Eerin Nara* is Not a Jedi_

There is no Light side, there is no Dark side, there is only the Force.

Eerin breathes, lets the waves of natural chakra wash over him, meditates and centers himself. The sun is only beginning it’s climb into the sky, cold air damp with dew.

This is nothing compared to his Mum’s morning stretches.

Around him he can feel the other students do the same, can feel them harmonize their chakra to each other, to their teacher’s…

… all except for one.

He opens his eyes and meets someone else’s–Ben Organa, Master Luke’s nephew, though that’s not really how he’s supposed to be considered.

Just another student like everyone else.

The sun is still rising, casting long shadows across the ground. His family would consider it strategically ideal.

Ben’s eyes widen in surprise, before he turns away, red creeping along his cheeks. Embarrassment more than anger, but not without the latter.

Eerin closes his eyes–quick so as to avoid Master Luke’s attention, but long enough for what really matters.

A figure in armor, helmet, and cloak. A lightsaber held high over fallen bodies.

There is no Light side, there is no Dark side, there is only the Force. But even then: Eerin doesn’t need to be a user of Light to save lives.

* * *

* * *

_2) Counterclockwise (Sundials Don’t Rust): Or, Leanne Peridot Apparently Has More Than One Sister_

There are three things about the future Regina knows to be true:

Galileo will never betray her.

Her visions are never wrong.

She will one day kill her father.

That last one has less to do with her abilities and more to do with her determination.

Of course, whose to say how any of that will come to pass.

Perhaps Galileo will never betray her because he will die long before he ever could–their line of work far from safe, and him in the thick of things.

Perhaps her visions are never wrong, but her interpretation of them–lacking context–may very well be.

And perhaps instead of killing her father, he will end up killing her instead. Or perhaps he’ll drink himself to death, or he’ll have a heart attack, or he’ll slip on a wet sidewalk and crack his head open.

She’ll never have that problem, at least. Her eyes are always on the ground, always steps ahead of everyone else just by looking at their shadow.

Until, one day, her father’s shadow changes.

Ah, so she really will kill him one day.

Unless he has another daughter who will beat her to the punch.

* * *

* * *

_3) Walking Around (Eyes Wide Open): Or, Sakako Uchiha Does Not See Dead People_

In a family of shadow manipulators, it’s easy enough to ignore.

At first.

For the Nara, silhouettes are less about physics and more about discipline and creativity. Despite her name, the Nara genes run strong, and there is no harm in that.

By itself.

But she is still the Uchiha heiress, and whether or not curse of her bloodline is fact or superstition, it still flows through her veins.

The Sharingan. Once it sees something, it can never forget.

But maybe, if she doesn’t understand–if she chooses not to–then it doesn’t matter. Just strange shapes upon the ground instead of messages from beyond.

Mum doesn’t often speak about her younger years–it is in the past, she says, to be learned from but not drag us down–but Sakako understands enough:

Knowledge is both power and responsibility.

Once she takes that step, she can never go back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * “Eerin Nara” is the Stars Also Dream equivalent of Kinokawa Nara. Going with the idea that the closest thing SAD!Yoshino had to family was her Jedi Master, Bant Eerin, not the Kinokawas who, while very nice, didn’t really understand her.


	5. Changeling!verse, to-someplace-else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part of the [Changeling!verse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945079/chapters/29078889)

Sometimes–on the very rare occasions where their luck hasn’t set off a ludicrous Rube Goldberg of chaos–Shikako enjoys just… basking in Naruto’s presence.

Eyes closed, face turned towards him, it really is reminiscent of childhood naps on a sunny afternoon.

She is not the first Fae to be captivated by an Uzumaki, and she certainly won’t be the last.

///

The Uzumaki are vibrant–colorful both literally and figuratively–brilliant and beguiling and entirely human.

Normally, when The Court has a guest, the revelry starts on a high point: humans are, after all, easily charmed and quick to ignore their hardships for some carousing. But soon they grow reluctant, body weary, and when they are returned home they always complain about how everyone they’ve ever loved is dead.

So ungrateful.

But Uzumaki guests are eager from start to finish, dancing and drinking as well as any member of The Court, and when they are returned home they hardly blink an eye at the changes around them.

What is a century to a clan known for longevity?

///

Fae are subject to the strictest of rules, the only inhibitor to their preternatural power.

They cannot speak untruths, yes, but that does not mean they cannot deceive. They cannot take what is already claimed, but claims are easy enough to change:

A favor, a name, a face–how simple it is to gain possession of those iron-blooded surface dwellers.

///

No one really remembers much about Kakashi’s mother. It’s true his father was much more infamous, but it’s not entirely the fault of Konoha’s imperfect memory.

After all, it’s from her that Kakashi inherited his penchant for masks.

How unfortunate that he didn’t also inherit the reasoning behind it.

Not that it would matter much: as a changeling, Shikako is free to do as she pleases.

///

The Summer and Winter Courts are forever at war–or, perhaps, are the one and the same just with different adornments.

What do seasons mean to eternal beings? After all, conflict is just another kind of dance.

But the Fae are fickle, not foolish: they send changeling children across the veil for a reason.

///

The Uchiha, as all too clearly proven, were entirely mortal, but fearsome warriors whose reputation impressed even those beyond the forests.

The clan knew better than to get involved with the Fae. Sasuke is just a lone boy carrying the name.

Emotional bonds are the most powerful, crafted not from tangible materials or breakable promises, but from sacrifice.

Blood and heirlooms and secrets exchanged until there can be no more tally of debts, no method to untangle what is owed to who.

All these unwanted, broken orphan boys…

The finest Queen will have the strongest and most loyal of Knights.


	6. Nara Twins - Heart Donation, donapoetrypassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"ShikaPOV: Shikamaru didn’t want to take his sister’s arm when his got destroyed. Shikako listened (even though she could maybe grow a new one). Shikamaru probably didn’t want to take his sister’s heart when his got destroyed. But there wasn’t time to ask. (Shikako put up a barrier dome on the battlefield and listened to no one. She’s fine. She grew a new one.) Everyone understands why Shikamaru is benched- his chest is still so fragile. (Shikako still thinks her leave is to help her brother)."_

Shikamaru sits across from his sister, pushing the food on his plate round and round, sick of eating the same healthy food, sick of always recuperating, sick of this situation.

I have your heart in my chest, he thinks, staring at Shikako and silently, desperately willing her to make sense.

How do I still not understand how you feel?

—

What he’s most sick of is the way that no one will tell him what happened.

Given the way Ino’s breath hitches slightly, Chouji’s blankly guilty expression, and even Asuma-sensei looking away whenever he asks, he can make a solid guess–there aren’t many routes for one person’s heart to be made available to donate.

But he needs to know how his sister died.

—

They are playing shougi, practice for his Shadow Hand as much as it is a way to kill time, when a thought makes Shikamaru laughs–if such a dark sound can be considered such.

Shikako looks up, bewildered.

It takes five minutes for him to stop laughing and by the end of it he has tears in his eyes: he is missing so many pieces of himself it’s amazing he still counts as a person

—

“I was a brother, once,” Dad says, and Shikamaru tries not to flinch away.

It’s either that, or scream.

But Dad hardly ever talks about his younger brother, nor is he one to make such comments without a reason, and so Shikamaru waits.

“If I could have done something for Ikoma, I would have.”

It doesn’t make things better, but at least now there’s some perspective.

—

Shikamaru can tell his sister is getting restless, strained and more irritable the longer she’s stuck in the village.

But Shikako wouldn’t abandon him during what she thinks is his time of need: she thinks her leave is to help him recover.

She hasn’t even considered the alternative.

—

Mum presses shaking hands to his face every time he’s near enough. Shikamaru indulges her in this–he can tell how much restraint she is showing, how she redirects her worry by holding Kinokawa ever closer.

She’s different with Shikako, not in words or actions: her eyes are conflicted, but her hands do not shake.

He doesn’t know what that means, though.

—

If Shikako stays in denial, willfully oblivious to the reason behind her mandated leave, she will grow to resent him.

If he tells her truth, breaking that fragile bubble of peace, she will hate him for making her face it.

There is no way for Shikamaru to win.

—

He doesn’t interact with Team Seven often–mostly through his sister, but Naruto and Sasuke at least are peers if not friends. The same cannot be said of Kakashi Hatake.

Did she learn this from you? Shikamaru wonders as the man known equally for his tragedies and combat prowess slowly lifts up his headband.

What the Sharingan sees is forever imprinted in the user’s memory.

Maybe somewhere in there is the answer he needs.

—

(The maximum time for heart transplant viability after the donor’s death is about six hours. This is assuming the heart is removed without any damage and is kept at ideal conditions after extraction throughout the journey to the operating room.

Maybe with seals that window of time is longer, fuinjutsu far more reliable at storage and transportation of organs than the coolers of chemicals she remembers from before.

Which only leaves the removal.

And the donor’s death, of course.

She just hopes she doesn’t get stabbed through the chest again. It might damage Shikamaru’s new heart and that would defeat the purpose entirely.)

—

There is no winning. This is something Shikamaru must learn the hard way: there is no secret set of moves, no strategy that can undo all that has been done.

There is no winning; only survival and acceptance.

Shikako hasn’t learned this lesson yet, either.


End file.
